


What's up, buttercup?

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fun & Fluff, LLF Comment Project, Lots of little siblings, modernau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13384095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: "Are you single?"Miles feeling the heat rise to his hairline, the colour probably biting with that of his uniform.And he watched Olivier blush too, if only slightly, though she was quick to chew and swallow her current piece of chicken, hollering back at Buccaneer."I greet people with fucking idioms you big lump, know what I mean, Jellybean?"Buccaneer apparently not done with embarrassing him, his head now poking out from the back."So that's a yes?"





	What's up, buttercup?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkuisitivSkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkuisitivSkins/gifts).



> Thank you @Inkuisitivskins for the prompt :D  
> Not my best, but it was fun^^ I enjoyed flippin a few of our usual tropes on their head and hope you'll enjoy it too :D

"What's shakin', Bacon?"

He'd started grinning as soon as she walked through the door. Saved himself the corporate-greeting, the only guy he was working with tonight Buccaneer, his favourite regular walking over to the counter easily, leaning on it.

"Bacon now, huh? Nobody ever used that before!"

His smile mirrored by her, his words a joke, making her laugh.

"What brings you around the neck of these woods at," he turned towards the clock "Half past four in the morning? On a Wednesday to boot?"

She was his favourite customer by far, the blonde that he only ever saw late at night, once or twice a week. He'd gotten out of her that her name was Olivier Mira, she was a student in the art-department of the same university he went to, seemingly had a god-awful sleeping-schedule and an immense craving for chicken and chocolate-milkshakes.

"The same that brings me here every time I come to this place, Miles!"

Their game now normal, tradition almost, yet her words had him grin a fraction wider.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"Chicken butt!"

Buccaneer in the back groaning, but the two of them at the counter laughing. He turned, prepared her regular order, when turning to take the cash the money as always on the counter already, with a small tip and the bill folded to an animal. Today it was a tiger.

She'd started to come in so late at night about two months after he'd started the job. Was not too happy with frying chicken and flipping burgers, but it paid his tuition and part of his rent, so he didn’t complain. The work becoming more fun when he talked his best friend Buccaneer into taking up a job that was vacant. Soon they were the two set to work the night-shift, the big guy scary enough to turn people’s minds from robbing them, Miles planned enough to manage a rush of teens that sometimes came in late at night.

Ordered almost the same thing each time, though changed her order up when they offered the shrimp-special.

"Nobody else here tonight?"

Shook his head while sliding over her tray.

"We had a few drunk teens half an hour ago, but they took their food and went on their merry way again then."

"So, I can stand around at the counter and talk to you a bit?"

Nodded, her grin even holding when she sipped from the straw of her shake.

She sometimes did that, talked to them, or only to him. Ate her food, joked a bit, and was simply all-around breath-taking.

"Five questions-game?"

He pulled a coin from his pocket, her tipping wordlessly on tails. Flipped it through the air, heads coming up as the winner. He almost blushed.

"What were you doing so late out?"

Five questions meant anything goes, that the winner could ask whatever he or she wanted and had to get an answer to it. He'd never been the one asking before.

"Look around at the corner Petersen-Bradley tomorrow, and you'll see."

Knew what she did, to a certain extent, but never before she'd given him such a clear answer.

"Do you have siblings?"

The idioms she loved to use something he'd connected with his childhood, the question if she always used them, or if it had a reason, bothering him for a long while now.

"A bunch. Two sisters, fifteen and sixteen, a twelve-year-old brother and a five-year-old sister."

His eyes going wide at that, though it explained a lot.

Her laughter like bells, long blond hair thrown back with ease.

"Do you take care of them?"

She was about twenty, just like him. Had only seen her on campus once by day, though was sure that she hadn’t seen him.

"I don't have to watch over them and feed them if you mean that, I don’t have to earn the money, but Mom and Dad are often away, so..."

The words unsaid hanging in the air, that while maybe not burdened with financing her siblings, she was their emotional support, the grown-up person they probably turned to, watched over them.

Wanted to know more, knew how it was to take care of younger siblings, but Buccaneer yelled when he opened his mouth, taking care of his fourth question.

"Are you single?"

Miles feeling the heat rise to his hairline, the colour probably biting with that of his uniform.

And he watched Olivier blush too, if only slightly, though she was quick to chew and swallow her current piece of chicken, hollering back at Buccaneer.

"I greet people with fucking idioms you big lump, know what I mean, Jellybean?"

Buccaneer apparently not done with embarrassing him, his head now poking out from the back.

"So that's a yes?"

Miles finally finding his voice again in the pit of his stomach, pulling it up and putting it to good use.

"Buccaneer, you're making me run out of questions! Shut it!"

The guy grumbling, but indeed shutting up, though he could hardly concentrate with Olivier laughing again, blue eyes sparkling up at him. Her voice easy still, not angry, when she waved her hand at him.

"The big lump back there only used up one of your questions, I will not count the second."

The redness not having left him yet, but his heart urging him to be brave, taking control of his tongue.

"Want to go on a date with me?"

Her head crocking to the side, full lips forming a smile. Yet, he saw that her eyes scanned him thoroughly, from head to his middle, from awful chicken-shaped hat to the bright-red apron he wore, eggs on it. Wanted to go back in time, to keep himself from being such a fool.

Why would a woman like her, so beautiful and smart, so damn funny, go on a date with a guy like him? He'd seen her only once on campus, yes, but she'd not seen him because of the black-haired guy chatting her up, the blonde behind him just waiting for his turn. She had to be popular, sought after, was out of his...

"Sure. Next Saturday?"

Forgot to breath for a moment. Maybe two.

Buccaneer walked past him, over to the trashcans, subtly elbowing him in the back.

"I... I... Yes! Yes of course!"

And after a few more minutes of him stuttering, she'd been gone, waving her hand when walking through the door, hollering loudly.

"See you in a while, Crocodile!"

* * *

Her arms came up behind him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

"What's cooking, good looking?"

Chuckled, though did not stop stirring the sauce.

"Cathy said the exact same thing five minutes ago, you know?"

Her soft kiss to his neck very much unlike those the five-year-old Catherine gave him, sending a shiver down his spine. Her voice full of humour when she spoke, but quiet and calm, as if to keep the kids from pulling her away from him again.

"It's a curse, I'll never speak normally again."

Her nose pressing into his neck, both swaying softly, the feel of her arms around him wonderful.

Could hardly understand how they'd evolved from this weird nightly-customer and the fast-food-worker, to this. Standing in her family’s kitchen, her mother having passed them on their way in, saying something about how good it was that she would watch the kids today. Gone a second later, their plans for the day now seemingly changed, though not necessarily for the worse.

Turned then, winding his arms around her and pressing a short kiss to her lips.

"There's worse things I think."

A quiet laugh escaping her before they broke apart, her taking care of the pasta, he taking the sauce from the stove. Their dance around the dinner table perfected, dates more often than not spend there, keeping an I on her plethora of siblings.

The feeding of the hungry mob quick, but easy. The kids aware who and what he was to their sister, unlike her parents. The small crowd dispersing quickly when the words "dishes" were uttered, the privacy provided by this ritual not at all unwelcome to them.

It was him now, arms wound around her middle while she was drying up the dishes. His chin resting on top of her blonde locks, no words escaping them. The radio playing something or other, though they were not listening. Everything dry and clean soon, her hands coming to rest on his, head falling back, resting on his chest.

His voice soft.

"What's up, buttercup?"

Her quiet laughter worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_
> 
> I reply to every comment, though it sometimes takes me a day, or two.
> 
> I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/)


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